


I Lost You

by Demenscous



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Gaslighting, Haikyuu - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Manipulative Relationship, Suppressed Feelings, Time-Skip, acceptance of feelings at the end, and the reader is trying to help him, fluff towards the end if you squint, i should clarify that akaashi is the one in the abusive relationship, ngl i may or may not have almost gotten teary-eyed writing this, on akaashi's end, we dont talk about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:48:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27667016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demenscous/pseuds/Demenscous
Summary: Akaashi's relationship was far from perfect, but when kisses turn to tears and hugs turn to bruises, he has no one left to turn to but you--the person who he left behind long ago.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Reader
Comments: 11
Kudos: 47





	I Lost You

**Author's Note:**

> wOw, two posts in one day? (technically 2 days since its one in the morning but we're not gonna talk about it)  
> anywayss, I hope you enjoy this even if it HURT me to write :)
> 
> Inspired by: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJQ6TL5c/

The first time it happened, he thought nothing of it.

“Hey, I’m going to y/n’s in an hour to have dinner with her and Bokuto, would you like to come?” Akaashi’s chin was resting on his girlfriend’s shoulder as she sat at her desk, his arms wrapped around her body in a gentle embrace with her back pressed against him.

“I don’t know, Keiji,” she sighed, allowing her head to fall back, meeting his chest, “I have a lot of work to catch up on. Why can’t we just stay in like we always do on Friday nights?”

Bringing a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, Akaashi continued, “As much as I’d love to, I haven’t seen them in forever; our schedules rarely align and this is the first time in months that we’ve been able to plan something, and--” he pinched her nose, chuckling at the way her face scrunched up, “--I’ve been reminding you of these plans for about a month now…I was hoping I’d finally be able to introduce them to you.” At this, he kissed her cheek, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck to breathe in the perfume that veiled the soft skin there.

“Keiji,” she giggled, half-heartedly pushing away his face before eventually conceding and returning to the laptop resting on the table in front of her. “I wish I could, but I just _can’t_ \--I have to get this done.”

“Well, what’re you going to do about dinner?” He was watching the screen of the laptop now, following the sounds of the tapping keys.

“I don’t know, I guess I’ll figure something out.”

At her odd change of tone, Akaashi pulled back to better look at her face, finding her lips slightly pursed, her brows lowered, “Do you want me to bring you back something from y/n’s?”

Her mouth seemed to almost pull into a frown, “No, it’s fine, don’t worry about me; you need to start getting ready anyways.”

“How about I order something to the apartment then? I could get your favorite--”

“I’m fine, seriously, Keiji, go get dressed before you make yourself late.” She gave a pointed look behind her, to the bed, where he had already laid an old hoodie and jeans to put on for tonight; nothing too elaborate as you had told him that you’d simply be ordering some take-out to eat with him and Bokuto like you used to do during high school, laughing at the kitchen table until you couldn’t breathe, talking with smiles never leaving any of your faces.

He missed it, he truly did.

And he missed you, he missed Bokuto.

“Are you sure? It would only take a minute.” Akaashi removed his arms from her, walking over to the clothing on the bed and slipping the hoodie on.

“Yeah,” her voice lowered to a mumble, “I just don’t want to be a burden in your plans.”

He stilled, his fingers now on the button of his jeans as his head tilted to the side in concern, “What do you mean? Of course you’re not a burden, I just want to make sure you eat something tonight and not get caught up in work.” Akaashi was at her side once more, crouching down to peer up at the profile of her face, lit a soft blue from the screen of the laptop, “Hey, look at me.”

She didn’t, only continuing to type away in unbearable silence.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“I don’t know, Keiji, did you?”

He blinked, a bit taken aback at the curtness of the question, so foreign on her usually kind tongue, “I don’t…I don’t understand?”

As if realizing the bitter words had left her throat, she brought a hand to her face, rubbing at her eyes as her expression softened, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m just…just _tired_ , okay? I didn’t mean it, you didn’t do anything wrong; today’s been a fucking mess and I--” A quiet sniffle, muffled by the sleeve of her sweater, seemed to echo through the room, “I’m sorry, I just want today to be over already…”

Akaashi was quick to comfort her, bringing her away from the stress of her work to the bed, where he helped her get situated in the many blankets and pillows, before using a thumb to wipe away the tears that fell past her lashes.

He never went to dinner that night.

※※※

The second time it happened, he wished it hadn’t.

“I don’t like her.”

Akaashi turned to his girlfriend, watching her take a draw from the beer in her hand, her impassive stare pinned across the room to where you were standing, talking with Bokuto and Atsumu excitedly as you told, what Akaashi could only assume was, a story based on your animated hand gestures.

“Why? Did she say something to you?” Initially, he had thought that she was kidding, using dry sarcasm to joke as she often did. Only, her eyes weren’t laughing.

“She came off a bit fake when she said ‘hi’ to me, but, no, it’s not that, it’s just--” She exhaled deeply, shrugging.

“It’s what?” Akaashi persisted, urging her to continue, although not completely understanding the first half of her statement; you’d greeted her with your usual regards, genuine in its meaning unless he had missed something. 

Did he miss something?

“I don’t know…Keiji, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, I know she means a lot to you, but…” Her eyes were focused on the ground now, as if conflicted on whether or not to tell Akaashi what was obviously bothering her.

He placed a reassuring hand on her waist, fingers brushing over the fabric of the dress she wore, “You can tell me, it’s alright, you can tell me anything.”

She hesitated for a moment, acquiescing with an almost shy nod, “She’s just…she’s too _touchy_ with you, and the rest of the guys. I don’t like the way she looks at you, either.”

Akaashi opened his mouth as if to speak, though he was at a loss for words.

He found himself staring at you, instead.

You, who's been by his side since you met in middle school.

You, who used to attend all of his games to support him when you could.

You, who he introduced to the entire team the first time you spectated a practice because his teammates wouldn’t stop pestering him about who you were and if you were currently single.

You, who became such quick friends with Bokuto that it only felt _natural_ for the three of you to find your way to each other.

You…who now felt so far away. 

Why were you so far?

“I can talk to her about it--”

“No,” she was quick to cut him off with a petulant guise, “I’ve been down this road before in the past and I don’t plan on doing it again. If you actually love me, you’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she doesn’t come between us because we both know that it’ll happen sooner or later. It always does with girls like her.” 

When had it come to this? 

“And you love me, right?” Her voice was becoming muddled to his ears as he slowly began to drown within himself.

Picking sides, giving and taking but never both. He could never have both.

He pleaded with her name, searching her face for the right thing to say; one wrong word and Akaashi knew that the night would end in a scathing argument with him sleeping on the couch, mulling over how he could have handled the situation better.

Nights like that, he’d wonder if he deserved it.

She gave him the answer, the key, he so desperately needed, “If you care about our relationship, you should stop associating with _her_ \--people who only want to take you away from me in the end because they don’t want to see you happy like I do.”

Akaashi wished he could say her admittance was a rare reprieve from the constant guessing when it came to her, of trying to fix the parts of himself to better provide for her because he would do anything for the sake of this relationship, no matter the cost.

Yet, the music was too loud, the lights too bright, the din of the bar too much for him. He didn’t want to be here anymore, but he didn’t want to leave knowing that this might be the last time he would see you.

Her cold hand on his cheek pulled him from his thoughts, bringing his face to her, “I just don’t want to lose you, Keiji…I can’t risk that because _I_ love you so, so much.” 

※※※

The third time it happened, he should’ve seen it coming.

“I’ve given up _everything_ for you, Keiji, fucking _everything_ and this is the shit that you pull?”

He had come home late that night from work, exhaustion weighing on his limbs, when he walked through the threshold of the apartment to find his girlfriend seated at the kitchen table, to-go boxes of food cooling in their containers as she glanced at the time on her phone. From there, it was only a spiral downwards, Akaashi retreating deeper and deeper to the farthest reaches of his mind where it was too dark to see, too muted to speak, too empty to touch. He was reticent as her irritation evolved from mindless bickering to verbal lashings.

“No one will _ever_ love you like I do and this is how you treat me? Coming home late without fucking saying anything beforehand, and here I was trying to be the good girlfriend, getting us dinner to share, and it’s like you don’t even _care_. I mean, shit, do you even care about me, Keiji? Do you?”

His head was in his hands as he leaned back against a counter, fingers rubbing at either temple before sliding through his hair in unease, “You’re right, I’m sorry, I should’ve said something.”

“It’s always ‘ _I’m sorry_ ’, always ‘ _I’ll do better_ ’, is that the only thing you can say? Like a broken fucking record, is that what you are?” She was getting up now, “If work is such a goddamn problem for you, why don’t you find a new job? Because, obviously, it’s creating issues here.”

Akaashi vaguely recalled a few past instances in which work had held him back later than he’d planned, often leading to a couple of miffed words from his girlfriend but nothing like this--never like this.

She was walking toward him, her steps intent on brushing past Akaashi to go to their shared bedroom; and when he tried to stop her with a hesitant touch to the shoulder, the question of ‘ _How can I fix this?_ ’ on his parted lips, she whirled on him, slapping his hand away.

“Don’t touch me,” she spat, ire bleeding from her eyes in the form of tears, “don’t act like you care.”

It was the same question that tormented his mind all those months ago, come to return once more: _When had it come to this?_

“Why don’t you go spew your half-assed excuses to that bitch you call your friend, I’m sure she’ll gladly take you in like the whore she is; maybe she’ll even take you to her bed and fuck that pitiful façade from you, is that what you want? You want to run to her like a damn dog with its tail between its legs?” She grabbed a fistful of Akaashi’s shirt, yanking the fabric hard enough for him to stumble forward, “I want you to know, Keiji, that no one will ever want you for more than a pretty thing to keep them warm at night, and if they say they do, _they’re lying_.”

A burn at the back of his throat was an all too familiar feeling.

And he hated familiarity now, its meaning tainted by her love that she promised would never hurt him. He hated familiarity because it used to mean you, it used to mean warm embraces, it used to mean taking ridiculous photos, it used to mean everything and now it means nothing but _pain_.

Warm embraces withered to bruises on his body, littering his skin.

Memories of the past rotted to her foul words that stained his mind.

Because roses wilt when they decay; chocolates mold when left untouched; jewelry oxidizes and rusts; and love walks a fine line between hate.

It’s all temporary in the end.

※※※

It was nearly two in the morning when you heard someone at the door.

The first knock you disregarded, mind hazed with sleep, believing the mellow sound to be part of your dreams. The second knock was sharper, almost frantic.

Glancing at your phone on the bedside table, your eyes strained with the change of light, a dull ache forming behind them before you heard another knock and you were able to fully process the sheer panic that was beginning to form. Nothing good came from a knock at your door in the middle of the night.

Grabbing the baseball bat you kept under your bed, and the taser that had been tucked away in a drawer, you exited your bedroom on quiet feet, senses all too aware of every noise, every shift in the shadows as you approached the door to look through the peephole, finding--

“Holy shit.” Your words were barely more than a whisper, falling on a breath of relief and...and sorrow.

When you opened the door, you didn’t realize how much it would hurt, “Keiji?”

His eyes were puffy, remnants of tears left behind, his nose and cheeks pinkened and at the sight of you, he nearly collapsed to his knees.

It had been almost a year since you’d seen him.

“...Keiji?” You barely recognized your voice, not as it cracked in agony, as if you couldn’t quite believe he was here, not as your vision blurred and you choked on a sob.

His hands were shaking, his throat felt swollen, and the wall that he had built so high to lessen the hurt of distancing himself from you, finally broke. What a shame that such a height only makes the fall that much harder.

You were abandoning the bat and taser, haphazardly tossing them to the ground before you were reaching for him, hands finding his face as his tears wet your fingers.

“I’m sorry, y/n, I--” He broke off, his body trembling, eyes squeezing shut. Maybe she was right, maybe he was nothing more than a broken record, after all.

Your own throat felt restricted when you wrapped your arms around him, holding him to you as if you were scared to lose him again, as if he would disappear; he held onto you just as tight, if not more.

You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away when you asked your next question, a murmur to his chest, “What happened?”

“We broke up.” It was a tired sigh against your neck when he spoke.

Lifting your head from him, you gently grabbed his hand, “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Akaashi obliged, letting you take him to the couch where you sat down beside him, your gaze snagging on a blooming bruise at his jaw. The tips of your fingers instinctively went to the swelled area, grazing the skin tenderly, “Did she do this to you?”

He couldn’t even meet your eyes when he answered, “Yes.” Akaashi heard the exhale that came from you: disappointment, anger, pity--he didn’t know.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” It was so deathly quiet in your apartment, your hushed words filling the space.

He wanted to give you an answer, but what is there to give when you have none?

What is there to say when doubt shrouds in the corners of his mind, when self-loathing reaps what it sows, when the trauma goes deeper than skin and blood and bones?

What is there to say when you can no longer find yourself, when you don’t know who you are, what you’ve become, or what you’ll be?

What is there to say except for ‘ _I’m sorry_ ’? To apologize for the mistakes he made, to apologize for everything.

What is there to say to _you_ , who he was in love with for years long past, suppressing his feelings if only to never lose what he had?

Everything and nothing at all, there’s too much and too little to say.

You turned his face to look at you, blue eyes lidded with a hollowness that tore at your being, “I thought I lost you forever.”

 _You never will_ , is what he wanted to tell you, _y_ _ou’ll never lose me_ _because you already have me--you have for a long time_.

**Author's Note:**

> Now, before you ask "jesus christ who hurt you?" the answer is myself. Its me! And maybe the song "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron. Or maybe this tiktok that broke my heart and was the sole reason I made this fic: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJQ6TL5c/  
> but you know.. its sad bitch hours yall and idk about you but a good cry just feels so ~nice~. Am I okay? No :D I think I've made that pretty clear by now but did this turn out so much better than I expected and totally worth the pain? ✨Yes✨  
> But seriously--ow  
> As always make sure you're drinking enough water, eating enough food, and just taking care of yourself whether that be the basic necessities or a whole spa day, please please please look after yourself even if the smallest things seem like chores (trust me, I've been there)  
> I love you all so so much and I hope you're all doing well !! ❤


End file.
